


Impulse Purchase

by Things_I_Will_Not_Admit_I_Wrote



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, Castration, Dark, Inappropriate use of pronouns, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Slavery, Snuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 20:37:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10704645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Things_I_Will_Not_Admit_I_Wrote/pseuds/Things_I_Will_Not_Admit_I_Wrote
Summary: The problem with coming to the slave store with his uncle, Derek reflected, was that Peter genuinely hated humans.





	Impulse Purchase

The problem with coming to the slave store with his uncle, Derek reflected, was that Peter genuinely hated humans. 

Derek scowled at the woman that Peter was inspecting. She was naked, her thin skin sagging and droopy tits hanging low. She looked so pathetic that Derek didn’t know how Peter had the energy to bother with her. 

Peter pinched one of her nipples, twisting it sharply. 

Her whole body flinched, the fat on her saggy ass shaking slightly. 

The slaver smiled broadly, “As you see, she’s been muted. You’ll never hear a peep out of her.”

“Hmm,” Peter slapped her breast, the slave staggered backwards. Her left tit was already turning red but she knew better than to lift her arms from her sides. “Old though.”

She shuffled forward, getting back into position. 

The slaver shrugged. “She was a good breeder for many years. I was going to sell her for silage.”

“One hundred cash,” Peter said, putting his hand in his pocket to get out his wallet. 

“Sir,” the slaver protested, putting his hand on the slave’s thigh, “You’re joking! Look at this meat, I’d easily get $150 for it!”

“Seventy-five for her,” Peter countered, “And I’ll take the twins in the front too.”

Derek glanced back at the two young males in the cage at the very front of the store. They were huddling together in their cage, their arms around each other. The bright red sale sign that had been clipped to the outside of their cage read four hundred dollars, marked down from eight hundred. 

The slaver licked his lips. 

“Sold. I do, legally, have to tell you that those two have a genetic condition. Now, that won’t matter to you, but there is a heart condition…”

Peter waved a hand in the air negligently. They all knew that the slaves would be dead within the week. Derek rolled his eyes and turned away. Of course, his uncle was rich enough that he could always buy more humans. But it was exactly that sort of attitude that meant Derek had been forced to spend the last five Saturday mornings accompanying Peter to this miserable store. Derek didn’t really begrudge his uncle, but he would much prefer to still be in bed. 

He stopped in front of a cage, his eyes resting on the human inside. 

It wasn’t that he minded that Peter killed all his slaves, he didn’t even mind _how_ Peter killed his slaves. It just bothered him how much he now knew about his uncle’s sex life. It seemed like Peter could only cum if he’d just killed the person he was fucking. 

Which was fine, humans were a disposable resource; breed to be bought and sold. However these shopping trips increasingly felt like he was keeping Peter company while he bought this week’s fleshlights. 

He stewed in his annoyance, his eyes idly watching the moles on the pretty skin in front of him. Just as he was about to turn round and rejoin his uncle, the slave leaned forward, gripping the front of the cage and spoke to him!

“Please.” 

Derek’s eyes widened in shock. 

The slave mistook his silence and continued speaking!

“Help me. Please, I shouldn’t be here!”

Derek sneered in disgust. 

“Slaver!” he roared angrily. Peter had just finished paying and the slaver came running over to Derek. “Did you hear that?”

“Yessir,” the man paled as Derek glared at him. “I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again!”

Peter was ambling along behind him, smiling slightly. 

“I thought you muted all of your stock, Charlie, I’m disappointed in you.”

“I do, sir, I do,” the slaver looked back and forth between Peter and Derek beseechingly, obviously scared that he’d offended his best customer. “This one is new, just in. He’s completely feral, spent his whole life in the wild and doesn’t know how a human should behave.”

Derek grunted, turning back to look at the wild human. There was a certain fire in his eyes that Derek could appreciate. It was almost attractive. The slave backed away, although the cage was too small to let him get far. As he moved there was a bounce to his cock that made Derek recoil. 

“He’s not even fixed!”

“Not yet, sir! He’s completely unmodified. A human in its natural state, every alteration you make is entirely your decision.”

The slave had finally realized what they were talking about and had put his hands in front of his crotch, trying to hide himself. There could be some fun in training the slave, Derek supposed. It would certainly be more entertaining than the other uses he’d seen for humans. 

“How fascinating,” Peter murmured. 

“And I offer very reasonable rates for all modifications, sir,” the slaver had realized that Derek might be a potential customer and was spreading his mouth into an unappealing grin. Usually that look was aimed at Peter. 

Derek grimaced. The slaver stunk of human bodily fluids. 

“How much?” Derek asked gruffly.

“You know,” Peter interrupted, before the slaver could answer, “I think I’ll buy this one for you. My treat.”

Derek glanced up in surprise and caught the tail end of Peter’s smirk. 

“I don’t like the balls.”

The slaver rubbed his nose, failing to hide his glee at another sale. 

“Castration is very popular. Complete removal does require some recovery time though. You know,” the slaver frowned, before continuing, “I’m sure you know, humans do heal very slowly and, in order to avoid infection, it is advised that you don’t fuck him for at least a week afterwards.”

“A week,” whistled Peter in surprise. Derek’s lips thinned in annoyance and he stepped away from the cage, shaking his head. 

“Of course,” the slaver called out, reaching out a hand that didn’t quite touch Derek. “Of course, there are always other options. It is possible to castrate without any surgical intervention and you’d be able to use him tonight, this afternoon. Although the testicles would still be visible, they do shrink over time.”

“What do you think, Derek? You want him?”

The slave was shaking now, rocking himself back and forth. The rest of the humans in the store were dead-eyed, resigned to their fates. They gave up so easily, just hoping for an easy death. This one had no idea how much pain Derek could inflict on him. 

“You could do the castration yourself, if you like!” the slaver threw in desperately, “No charge for the use of the equipment!”

Derek turned the idea over in his head and smiled slowly, “Alright.”

“Perfect, perfect! I must say, it’s nice to deal with a man who knows what he wants! If you step this way, Mr Hale, my assistant will get everything set up while we deal with the bill.”

A young werewolf hurried out of the backroom of the shop. 

“Take him into the back room and set him up, would you?” the slaver called out as he ushered Peter back to the till. 

“Yes, Charlie,” the lad said, getting a large bunch of keys out of his pocket. 

Derek stayed next to the cage, readying to intervene should the human try to make an escape once his cage was opened. It turned out he needn’t have worried. The young werewolf opened the cage and reached in and grabbed the human so quickly that the human barely reacted. It always amazed Derek how slow humans were, even though, in some ways, they resembled werewolves.

The assistant winked at Derek as he herded the human into the back of the shop, one of the human’s arms twisted behind his back so that he would have his arm broken if he tried to run.

“This way, sir. We don’t have too many clients coming back here, so Charlie doesn’t keep it as presentable. It’s all hygienic though!”

“Your boss,” Derek explained, even though he was sure that young werewolf had already heard, “Said that this would be a non-surgical castration.” 

The werewolf pushed the human down onto a narrow examining table. The human struggled to sit up, but the werewolf was on him before he could even get upright. One hand on the human’s chest was all it took to keep the creature down. Derek snorted softly at the slave’s weakness. 

“The emasculator, very nice,” the werewolf nodded cheerfully as he strapped the human down. “I’ll put a gag on him, because this one still has his vocal chords and we wouldn’t want to upset the other humans.”

There was a thick piece of rope dangling from one side of the table and the assistant lifted that up, placed it over the human’s mouth and then went around the other side to secure it on the other side of the table. The human gasped and the rope slipped deeper into his mouth, holding it open. 

“It’s up to you, of course, but I always think it’s kinder to mute them. It’s just a small injection of acid here,” the assistant gently poked the slave’s throat, “And then they never have to wear a gag again.”

Derek didn’t answer. There was something compelling about a slave who had the ability to make noise, and yet was so cowed by him, so broken by him, that he wouldn’t dare make a sound. The assistant bent to pull up a pair of stirrups that attached to the foot of the table, but had been folded up and tucked away underneath. 

Derek watched the younger werewolf’s ass appreciatively. 

“You’re very good at handling them,” Derek muttered. The assistant looked over his shoulder at Derek. 

“Thanks,” he blushed as he picked up the slave’s left leg and fastened it into the stirrup. “Once you’ve handled as many humans as I have it all gets a bit repetitive actually.”

He lifted the slave’s right leg and fastened it in the same way. 

“They always react the same way to things. Always try to make a break for it at the same time. Thing is, once you’ve dealt with a few of them, you realize how weak they are. They’re never going to get anywhere.

“My name’s Tony, by the way,” the assistant walked towards and Derek thought he was going to try and shake his hand, but then Tony reached passed him and picked up a roll of tape that was on the shelf just behind him. 

“Derek.”

He hesitated, debating asking if Tony wanted to meet up later and get a drink together. Before he could come to a decision, Peter and the slaver walked into the room. 

“Nearly done, boss,” Tony said cheerful as he taped the slave’s little cock to his belly, leaving the balls dangling free. 

“Good, good. Now, this is what you’ll be using, the emasculator,” the slaver said, taking a tool off the wall. It looked a bit like a large pair of pliers. “You’ll have to do one at a time. Open it like this,” he pulled the handles wide apart, “And then clamp them around the spermatic cord. Clamp down for a few seconds, cutting off circulation, and then it’s done!”

“Must he be gagged?” Peter asked innocently. Derek glared at him, not sure Peter was asking because he wanted to hear the slave’s screams, or if he was making some dig about Derek’s awkward flirtation with Tony. 

“The screams can get very loud,” the slaver said dubiously. 

“It’s fine,” Derek said, taking the emasculator. He stepped between the slave’s legs and eyed the dangling scrotum. It would be so much easier if he could just cut the damn things off. 

“Let me just find the cord for you,” Tony said, sidling next to him. The slave’s legs were shaking and he was stinking the room up with the smell of human fear. Tony grabbed the base of the scrotum and gave it sharp tug. The slave let out noise which everyone apart from Derek ignored. Derek frowned. 

With Derek still holding the handles of the emasculator, Tony guided the jaws into place. 

“There you go, clamp down when you’re ready and I’ll let you know when he’s had enough.”

“When he’s had enough?” Peter asked and Derek could hear the displeased smile without turning around.

“He means,” the slaver said hurriedly, “When the ball is dead. It doesn’t happen instantly.”

Peter hummed, but Derek didn’t let it distract him. He didn’t want to be rushed. He’d never castrated a human before and he was rather enjoying it. If he wanted to, he could put the emasculator down and walk out of here with an intact slave. Naturally he wouldn't. The point was that he could alter anything he wanted. He could change this creature until it was anything he wanted. 

He smiled softly and closed the handles. 

There was a snapping sound of something breaking and then the slave began to scream. No matter what happened next, this creature would never be whole again, because Derek had changed him. 

He could hear Tony counting the seconds under his breath and the slave still screaming. It sounded like it was trying to garble out words. It was probably trying to plead with Derek. Very soon, before the day was over, Derek would teach it that humans didn’t use words. Language was only for werewolves. 

The room was beginning to stink. The slave’s fear was sour, but there was also a tang of human urine. Derek glanced at the slave’s small cock and saw, with disgust, that the creature had pissed itself. 

“Now,” Tony said, “You can let go now.”

Derek held the handles closed an extra second, wanting to be sure that the testicle was definitely dead. Then he let go of his grip. 

The slave screamed anew as the emasculator was removed and Derek leaned over to slap at its useless cock. He wanted it to learn to be silent and to control its bladder. 

Meanwhile, Tony was getting the next stage ready, the claws of the emasculator on the other side this time. Derek took the handles, once again savouring the moment. 

“You know,” Tony said hesitantly. “If you wanted to stud him then some people might be interested in breeding from a wild human. He’s still as useful, even with only one testicle.”

Derek shook his head, and clamped the emasculator shut. There was that same snapping noise and slave let out more muted noise, his vocal cords already strained. 

“Do you sell many studs?” Peter asked the slaver as Tony started his quiet counting. 

“A few,” the slaver began, but Derek stopped listening to him and concentrated on the man he’d just neutered. The stomach muscles were shaking now, saliva was dripping from the gag. Indeed, its whole face was wet with snot and tears. 

Derek imagined that the slave had never heard of castrating humans before it had been captured. He liked the idea that this whole operation had been a surprise for it. That Derek had done something that its stupid mind had never imagined possible, let alone something that could happen to it. 

“Now,” Tony said, stepping away, “All finished.”

Derek pulled the emasculator away and handed it to Tony, his eyes on the rapidly swelling, bright red scrotum. He jabbed it with his finger. The slave cried out again, sobbing wetly. It was good to know that his slave was fixed but Derek was not pleased by how swollen the testicles looked. They were more obvious than ever. 

 

 

On the drive home, the car stunk and it was souring Derek’s mood. The slave cage at the back wasn’t really big enough for four and his slave kept on whimpering. And it was still clutching its hands over its crotch like it had something to hide. 

“Cheer up, he’s your first proper slave, isn't he?”

“Well,” Derek considered. There were usually slaves around the pack. Faceless, interchangeable humans that he’d never really bother looking at before. “I suppose it is.”

He turned the radio on, pumping up the volume and putting his window down. 

“Then what’s that look for? Bad smell?” Peter asked, turning the radio down. 

“The old one is about to bleed. It’s gross.”

“Derek, I seriously think you were coddled too much as a child. That’s just what humans smell like. It’s natural. You wouldn’t blame a cow for the smell of cow dung.”

Derek stuck his head out of the window as they left town. He could smell the fresh scent of the pine trees and it made him feel a bit better. 

“I wouldn’t share a car with a cow.”

“Dear Lord, Derek!” Peter said, slamming on the brakes and swerving to the side of the road. Although, in many ways, Peter was a great Alpha, there were still times that he could be unpredictable. Being family gave Derek a certain leeway, but he did not want to push Peter too far. 

Peter got out of the car, angrily slamming the door shut behind him. He opened the trunk and pulled out the old female. She fell to the floor and Derek smelled the heady tang of human blood. 

“This, Derek, is so your delicate nose isn’t offended.”

He slammed the trunk shut, leaving Derek alone in the car that now stunk of human fear. Derek sighed and turned the radio up again. In the rear view mirror, he watched as Peter took the woman by the arm and pulled her to the side of the car. For a moment, Derek was worried that Peter was going to do it right against the car. Fortunately, Peter continued walking, the human female stumbling behind him as she tried to keep up. 

Derek sighed, annoyed with himself for pissing off his Alpha and annoyed at Peter for getting so easily pissed off. He turned the radio down a little. Through the trees he could hear his uncle talking to his new slave. 

“Yeah, that’s it. I’m going to give you what you’ve always wanted. Hmm, that’s right, I’m the kindest werewolf you’ve ever met.”

Derek could make out a few slurping noises and soft bangs. Peter probably was probably fucking her face. He turned the music up again for a few minutes and played with his phone. The waiting was interminable. Finally he turned the music down again so that he could hear if Peter was nearly done. 

“Fuck, you stupid fucking human. Take it. That’s right, just like that. That’s never coming out. You’re going to die like this. On my fat cock. That was your last fucking breath. Do you understand? Choke on my cock, choke on it. Die, you fucking scum.”

Derek turned the radio back up, idly wondering if the other humans could hear what was happening to their companion. Probably not, he decided. Humans were basically deaf. 

A few minutes later, Peter came strolling out of the woods, a relaxed smile on his face. 

“Problem with the radio, Derek?” Peter asked as he got in and started the engine. Derek didn’t answer, not wanting to say anything to upset Peter’s good mood. 

“I’m sorry,” Derek muttered after a few minutes. 

“It’s fine,” Peter said shortly. Usually an orgasm could be relied upon to mellow Peter out and this time was no exception. After a few seconds he started tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, following the beat of the song on the radio. 

“She was for today anyway. I like the older ones. As they get older they think for some reason that they’re going to, I don’t know, die of old age or something.”

Derek snorted in amusement. 

 

Friday night pack meetings were always rowdy, everyone excited for the large meal afterwards. There was always a roast and, this week, there were two. The twins were both cooked to perfection, their skin looking deliciously crispy as they were brought out from the kitchen. The table groaned worryingly under the weight of the humans as they were arranged in an artful mirror-image of each other. 

“I stuffed them myself,” Peter said laughing as Vernon carved off a piece of thigh meat. Derek, who was sitting at his right hand side, didn’t smile. “Oh, why so glum, dearest nephew? I thought you’d been having a good week.”

Derek shrugged. Erica passed a plate of meat to him and he handed it to Peter, who accepted it with relish. 

“It’s just,” Derek sighed. “It’s the present you gave me. It’s my fault, I said I wanted it, and I did. But it’s just so ugly.”

Peter laughed. 

“You don’t like the natural look?”

Derek grimaced, muttering a ‘thank you’ to Erica as she passed him a plate of meat. 

“They bounce around all over the place. I’m trying to fuck it and I just want to rip the damn things off.”

Peter put a forkful of meat in his mouth and chewed delicately. 

“You should come with me tomorrow.”

“Of course, uncle,” Derek said, looking down at his food. It would have been nice if Peter had taken his problem seriously. 

“No, no, you don’t understand. I’ll get you a new one.”

“Really?” Derek looked up hopefully.

“Yeah, sure,” Peter smiled at him and Derek remembered why he loved his uncle so much. He might be an annoying prick sometimes, but he was always there for his family. “Maybe you should ask out Charlie’s assistant this time. That boy could barely take his eyes off you.”

“Oh, uh,” Derek rubbed the back of neck awkwardly. “I dunno.”

 

“Now, listen,” Peter said, turning his attention back to cutting up the meat from the slave he’d bought last weekend. “That does mean that you don’t need the one I bought you, right?”

“Take him!” Derek said quickly, happy to get rid of the creature. 

“Thank you, nephew, I will! Perhaps you should join us, I’ll show you how it’s done.”

“Uh, sure.”

 

“Good, good. There’s a knack to dealing with humans and I suspect you have been far too gentle with yours.”

Derek shoved a chunk of human into his mouth and chewed rather than answer. He’d been a very good master to the slave. It wasn’t his fault the creature was too ugly to fuck properly. 

“Bring him to my room later tonight, would you? And, Derek, would you go and get me some more meat? I’d like to try the other twin this time, he has a maple glaze.”

 

Later, after everyone had eaten too much and Derek had fucked his slave one last, disappointing time, he took the slave to Peter’s bedroom. The slave stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as Peter examined him and Derek sat in the small armchair in the corner of the room. 

“Did you mute him yourself, Derek?”

“No, it talks.” 

“It?” Peter pushed the slave onto the bed, and it lay where it fell. 

“It stopped being a he when I snapped off its balls.”

“Yes, I suppose it did. I like that. I can’t remember the last time I had one that could make noise. Tell me, slave. What’s your name?”

The slave shuddered. Its body had been pale less than a week ago, but now its skin was littered with bruises. It had been very annoying for Derek to constantly soften his blows, to make sure his slave didn’t break a bone or rupture an organ. Perhaps Peter’s way of doing things was better after all. 

“Stiles,” the slave whispered. Derek shook his head. Even after a week of beatings, the wretched thing had learned nothing. Peter didn’t punish it though. 

“Stiles,” Peter said, toeing off his shoes as he started to undress. “I’ll remember that name. Do you know how long I’ll remember it for, Stiles?”

Peter’s voice was gentle, almost kind as he undid the buttons of his shirt and pulled it off, letting it fall to the floor. 

The human shook its head, glancing cautiously at Derek. 

Derek snorted in annoyance at the human’s lack of respect for his Alpha. 

Peter smiled and started undoing his pants, not looking away from the slave. 

“There’s no need to look at him, Stiles. He’s not going to touch you ever again. You’re mine now. Don’t you want that?”

The slave was too confused to understand what was happening, but Peter’s tone was doing a marvellous job of soothing it. It nodded slightly, making Derek chuckle silently. Really, it was no wonder that humanity had never achieved anything when they were this stupid. 

Peter smiled, pulling down his pants, finally naked. 

“Good,” Peter crawled on to the bed. The slave spread its legs readily, making Derek proud. If there had been one thing that he’d taught the human this week, it was the importance of offering its hole to whoever wanted to fill it. The balls, still inflamed, were even more obvious and Derek gave them one last look of disgust. 

“Oh, how thoughtful,” Peter said in delight, taking hold of the slave’s legs. “You came prepared. All slicked up and ready for me.”

Peter’s cock was already hard. He wiped a finger across the slave’s hole, gathering up the damp spunk he found there and using it to lube up his cock. With one hand gripping the base of his cock, and the other holding the slave’s leg, Peter sank into the slave’s well-used ass. 

He let out a satisfied sigh as he sheathed himself. 

“Now, Stiles,” Peter said, not moving. “I’ll ask you again. Do you know how long I’ll remember your name?”

The slave shook its head jerkily. 

Peter pulled out and thrust back in, before stilling again. 

“Then I’ll tell you,” he bent down, lowering his body on top of the human’s, his face resting in the crook of the human’s neck. It looked to Derek like the copy of a tender moment shared between lovers and he suddenly wished that he’d done this with the creature. He had only ever thought of ways to hurt the slave’s body, but Peter would destroy its mind as well. 

“Stiles, I’ll remember your name while I fuck you, and I’ll remember when I put my hands around your sweet little throat and squeeze the life out of you. I might even call your name when I cum inside your lifeless body. Would you like that, Stiles? Is it pleasant to know you’re about to die? That I will be your lover and your killer.”

“Rapist and killer,” the human said. Its voice was scratchy and unsure, but Derek could hear its conviction. Peter fucked into it, ignoring its speech. 

“After I’m finished, I’ll call the cook, and she’ll take your body downstairs, into the big freezer. You’ll hang on a hook,” Peter paused, closing his eyes briefly, “Fuck you feel good, you’ll hang on a hook until the next time we need more meat.” His voice became deeper, and the pauses between words longer as Peter began to pant, “Then the cook will get you out, maybe she’ll hack off a leg, maybe she’ll cook you whole. And when you’re on my dinner table, you won’t have a name. You’ll just be some human that I fucked. Like every other human before. Some human I fucked and that I ate.”

“You’re fucking sick.”

“What a brave little corpse,” he smiled as he put his hands on the slave’s throat. He was thrusting into it viciously now, the rest of his weight coming down on the human’s neck. The slave’s face was turning blue, and now, finally it started to fight back; raising its hands to try and prise and claw Peter from its neck. 

“Oh, Stiles, no.” Peter cooed. “This is how you die.”

Derek could hear the human’s heartbeat rapid with fear, but getting fainter already.

“You’re nothing, your whole life was nothing except for this moment. You were only ever a hole for me to use. That’s what you amounted to. Everything you ever did, or saw or said. Every thought you ever had was meaningless. All you are is a place for me to cum. The purpose of your life was to give me a few minutes of entertainment. I’m killing you because,” Peter’s grip around the human’s neck tightened, “Because you’re slightly more entertaining than jerking off.”

The heart was slowing down, getting so quiet that Derek couldn’t hear it above the noise of Peter pounding into the slackened body. Its tongue bulged out of its mouth and Derek knew that it had died.

“Fuck!” Peter yelled, groaning as he came inside Derek’s slave.

Peter fell forward, collapsing in bliss and panting hard. He pulled himself off the corpse, rolling to the side, and kicking the body on to the floor. Peter laughed. “I couldn't remember its name at the end there after all. What a shame. Luckily, I don’t think it noticed.”

 _Stiles_ had been its name, Derek remembered. He’d had it all week and he’d never thought to ask it its name. Next time he got a slave, he’d find out its name. Peter had been able to get far more emotion out of Stiles than Derek had. 

“Well, nephew?” Peter said, lounging back on the bed. Derek stood up. Naturally his dick was hard and, annoyingly, he now didn’t have a slave to fuck. His slave’s corpse had landed in a heap, its ass pointed up and its hole stretched wide. It was a tempting way to relieve himself. Those ridiculous swollen balls were still dangling there though. 

“Next time, I’ll get one already fixed.”


End file.
